


Just Like Drowning

by almostjulie



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostjulie/pseuds/almostjulie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn has needs, just like anyone else. He <em>wants</em> Poe though, and he never thought that want could be so strong as to consume need. </p><p>Poe has his own issues to work through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!

Finn has needs, just like anyone else. He needs to breathe, needs to eat, needs to piss, needs to learn how that new blaster works. 

He _wants_ Poe though, and he never thought that want could be so strong as to consume need. But Poe is millions of miles -- half a galaxy -- away. At least, as far as he knows. He’s a little vague on where Poe is at the moment, or when he’s coming back. Poe’s mission isn’t classified, but Poe didn’t want to talk about it beyond reassuring Finn that it wasn’t particularly dangerous, even though it was the result of a long and serious-seeming meeting with the General. He almost asked anyway, but Finn saw the grim look on both General Organa and Poe’s faces after their briefing, and decided not to press the matter. 

Finn should be proud or grateful or supportive or something that Poe is off doing important things. But Finn doesn’t want Poe: dashing heroic pilot of the Resistance. He wants Poe: his roommate who leaves his socks on the floor and never makes his bed; Poe who smiles at him like he’s the only person in the room; Poe who always sits too close to him with an arm draped over his shoulder. He’s nervous for that Poe, worried he won’t come back. Starfighter pilots usually have an early expiration date, even the great ones. Even on not particularly dangerous missions. 

More than anything, he wants Poe pressed up against him, Poe’s mouth on his, and his hands tangled in Poe’s hair. Wants to spend the rest of his life with him, no matter how short or how long. 

Problem is, he hasn’t worked up the nerve to tell Poe any of this. 

Which is not to say he _hasn’t_ had Poe pressed up against him; that he doesn’t know what the other man tastes like, or the sounds he makes when Finn sucks on that one spot on his neck, or how Poe feels around his cock. But he wants more than that, wants more than the dance they do where they start the night in separate beds. Wants being with Poe to feel less like an accident, like something they stumbled into, and more like belonging. 

What they have is fucking fantastic, and he doesn’t want to lose it, but Finn wants more. He just doesn’t know how to say it. Or how Poe might respond. 

***

Poe comes home a week later, whole but exhausted. Finn meets him outside Command after his debriefing. Poe manages to muster up a smile for him, but it doesn’t make it to his eyes. When Finn reaches out to hug him, Poe folds into him, heavy and unfocused, like he would have collapsed completely if Finn hadn’t been there. He sleeps for hours and hours. Finn tries not to hover. He busies himself drafting up training protocols that he knows will effectively and efficiently counter Stormtrooper training. 

It’s late when Poe finally wakes up, Finn can see him in the dim light, sitting up, staring at the wall. Finn can hear Poe’s fingertips drumming at the edge of his cot, restless? Anxious? He’s not sure what. “You up?” Poe asks into the darkness. His voice seems strange and far away, still unfocused. 

“Yeah.”

“Officer’s lounge should be open for another couple hours. Get a drink with me?”

He doesn’t want Poe drinking alone, not when he’s like this. Not that Finn would turn him down anyway. 

***

Poe orders a whiskey for each of them. He’s on his third before Finn’s had more than a few sips of his first. 

After maybe one too many concerned looks from Finn, Poe sighs, barely audible. "I thought we came here to drink, not for you to watch me drink."

"Just want to make sure we both get home." 

“It’s a five minute walk across the base. And we have BB-8 to chaperone. Isn’t that right, buddy?” 

BB-8, who of course followed them here, bloots affirmatively, but Finn doesn’t think he’s crazy to have heard some concern in the sound, too. 

“Fine,” Finn says, and downs a large gulp.

“That’s more like it,” Poe says, as he signals the bartender for another round. 

***

They stumble out together after last call, BB-8 trailing cautiously behind. Finn tries to lead them back to quarters, but Poe has other ideas. “Nope, not yet. Hangar. Gotta check on something with _Black One_.”

 _Pilots_ , Finn thinks. He tugs at Poe’s elbow, trying to get him back on track. “It can wait ’til morning.” 

But Poe’s drunk and he stumbles into Finn, who’s not entirely sober himself, and sends them both to the ground. The grass is cool beneath them, and somehow Finn’s head ends up resting on the other man’s stomach. He’s got a great view of the stars. 

"You're breathing kind of hard."

"I'm drunk, you ass."

"Well, it's making my pillow very uncomfortable." 

Poe shoves at his head, half-heartedly. "Then get off." A beat. "Don't pout at me."

"I'm not pouting. You can't even see my face."

"I know you well enough to know when you're pouting." 

"I never pout."

"Uh huh," says Poe. 

Finn doesn’t know the constellations here on D’Qar, but the night sky is pretty, nonetheless. He’s thinking, through his whiskey-haze, that he should get up, and get Poe up, before they fall asleep and wake up with hangovers in bright sunlight with the base humming with activity around them, when Poe says, “You know, I wasn’t always with the Resistance.” 

Finn did _not_ know that. To him Poe typifies the Resistance, so it’s taking a moment, especially with his buzzed mind, to wrap around the thought. He knew, generally, that Poe had a family, a career, a history, but they had never really discussed any of it. He should say something, probably, but all that comes out is, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” says Poe, and then, almost so quietly that Finn doesn’t hear, “I was with the New Republic.” 

Which, okay, Finn didn’t know, but it’s not a shocking revelation. Just new information. It’s not like he defected from the First Order or anything. 

But Poe continues, quieter still. “So this mission. It was a search and recovery to the Hosnian System.” Poe’s stomach rises and falls underneath Finn as he lets out a shaky breath. “I spent a lot of years there.”

Finn instantly sobers, relatively speaking, and he connects the dots. When Finn thinks about the destruction of the Hosnian System, it makes him sick inside, but he’s distant from it, removed. It’s an abstract hurt. For Poe, it’s immediate and personal, people and places he knew -- and maybe loved -- gone completely. Finn can’t even imagine. 

It must be, Finn thinks, like when he sometimes remembers Slip and Nines and Zero, but on a much larger scale. Those troopers weren’t his friends, exactly, but they were the closest thing FN-2187 had to it. Or maybe it’s like the family he must have had once that he can’t remember. (He has a recurring dream where he feels warm and loved, like he _belongs_ , but the faces in that dream are always frustratingly indiscernible; he’s so, so close to recognizing them but he never does).

“Every time I fly, it could be the last time, you know?” Finn knows, oh he knows. “But it doesn’t really get to me. I love flying. And I know that if I go, I’ll go out fighting. Fighting for something _good_. But the Republic-” Poe cuts off abruptly, like he can’t go on. Finn reaches up for his hand. Squeezes it. 

“They didn’t have that chance, to go out fighting,” Finn finishes for him. 

“So many people, Finn.”

The weight of it hangs heavy over them. Finn asks, “Why’d you leave?” Just to say something. 

“I had a, ah, _difference of opinion_ with some of my superiors.”

There’s more to that story and Finn wants to hear it, but now isn’t the time to dig deep, not when Poe’s so raw and hurting and both of their heads are swimming with whiskey. Instead, Finn thinks about Phasma and the other First Order officers, and says, “I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you do,” Poe says, and there’s surprise and relief in his voice. 

They’re silent for awhile, but Finn doesn’t want Poe to get too lost in his own thoughts, so he says, “Rey’s gonna come back and kick Kylo Ren’s ass, and then we’re all gonna live happily ever after.” 

Poe huffs out a laugh. It’s a good sound. “I’m counting on it.”

Finn truly believes in Rey, that she will come back and wipe the floor with Ren. But the rest of it, the happily ever after, that’s just a fairy tale. Poe and Finn both know it. Oh, but Finn _wants_. 

They lay together in the grass, talking, until the stars fade and the edge of the sky starts to turn pink. They talk about what Finn’s been up to while Poe’s been gone, training new ground troops. They talk about modifications Poe wants to make to his X-wing. They do not talk about Hosnian Prime again. 

BB-8, who has been uncharacteristically silent and patient, warbles at them and nudges at Poe’s feet. "Alright, alright, we're going back inside," Poe says, tired. Satisfied, BB-8 heads in the direction of quarters, with Poe and Finn following unsteadily behind it.

Finn’s arm is around Poe’s waist. "Come on," he says into Poe’s ear. "Let's get you to bed." 

***

He does just that: brings Poe back to their room, strips him down and pulls Poe’s rumpled blanket over him. 

He’s about to head back to his own cot when Poe peers up at him suspiciously. "You seem remarkably sober." 

Finn laughs. "You had about an hour head start on me. I don't think I'm sober, but maybe I'm a little more together than you." 

"Whatever," Poe replies. "Get in bed, you drunken nerf herder.” He shifts a little, making room in his cot for Finn.

And Poe’s an emotional wreck, on top of being drunk. But that _want_ is echoing in Finn’s head again. He really needs to say something about that, make sure Poe is on the same page, or at least knows where Finn’s mind is. But, he rationalizes, right now is about Poe, not about him. So he crawls into bed with Poe, who throws an arm over his chest.

They're drifting off, Poe’s breath evening out, his heart rate slowing. It feels nice to be close to him. It’s what they both need, if not everything Finn wants.

"Thanks," Poe breathes out, softly. 

Finn’s almost gone, but he fights back for consciousness, because this, because _Poe_ , is important. "Hey," says Finn. "You’d do the same for me." 

“Anything,” Poe agrees, barely a murmur, and Finn’s not sure if he says it because of the alcohol or his exhaustion or because it’s the truth. He hopes it’s the last one.

Finn holds Poe tighter. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll tell Poe what he wants. 

 

***


End file.
